


Food for Troubled Thoughts

by uena



Series: The Road to Hell (is Paved With Good Intentions) [5]
Category: The Tomorrow People (2013)
Genre: Emotional Entrapment, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Gen, Internalized Homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-13
Updated: 2013-11-13
Packaged: 2018-01-01 09:39:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1043307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uena/pseuds/uena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jedikiah takes John out to dinner, and they talk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Food for Troubled Thoughts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hope_calaris](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hope_calaris/gifts).



It has been two days.

Two days filled with mind-numbing work-out, too little sleep, too much nervous energy to settle down for even a minute.

He kissed Jedikiah. He pressed up against him, pushed and pushed, until –

John closes his eyes and sighs, gets off his bed and changes into sweat shorts and a tank top. He navigates the floors to the gym on autopilot, keeps his tired eyes trained on the ground.

It’s early in the morning, closer to four than to five, and the gym is empty.

He steps onto a treadmill and starts to run.

It’s not so much that he’s gay – he can’t help that, nobody can help _that_. It’s the fact that he’s bothered Jedikiah with it, the one person who never called him a freak, who never looked at him with contempt.

Who told him it wasn’t his fault, not to worry, not to blame himself.

But John blames himself.

Because who – what else is there? The drugs? The drugs did not make him do anything. They caused him pain, yes, and then screwed up his body’s resistance to heat for a while, but they didn’t … they didn’t cause _this_.

They merely lowered his inhibitions. They didn’t make him do anything he didn’t want to. They didn’t turn him into someone he wasn’t. They laid bare who he _is_.

Blood floods John’s cheeks, but it’s not from the physical exertion. He keeps his head down, stares at the endless walkway beneath his feet. He is too tired, wide awake.

He pushed himself at Jedikiah – in every sense of the word.

And just because Jedikiah told him not to worry, not to blame himself … that doesn’t make it okay. Being desperate for someone to touch you doesn’t mean you can just throw yourself at people. Least of all the ones you owe your life to.

He owes so much to Jedikiah, never wanted anything but to please him, and now he did _this_.

It makes him feel sick, disgusted with himself.

“John.”

The voice startles him, and he stumbles, almost knocks himself out on the control panel. Someone catches him, turns off the treadmill.

By now he’s familiar with the hands holding him up, familiar with the chest pressing to his back.

“I admire your dedication, but don’t you think it’s a bit early for any kind of work-out?”

John clears his throat, extricates himself from Jedikiah, before he does anything stupid. Again. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“Yes. I noticed. You look … quite horrible, to be honest.”

John steps off the treadmill, avoids Jedikiah’s eyes, doesn’t even look in his direction. “I’ll go back to my room, take a shower. Try to get some sleep.”

“That sounds like a lovely idea, really, John. But first tell me something, please.”

John freezes, his back to Jedikiah, two steps away from the door. “Yeah?”

“Is it my fault you look the way you do?”

John hangs his head. “No. No it isn’t.” Then he flees.

 

John has taken a shower, and is lying in bed, trying to will his brain to shut up when there’s a knock on his door. His body goes rigid.

Nobody ever pays him a social visit, nobody ever _knocks_. He goes to people. Nobody comes to him, and when they do, they don’t bother with knocking.

“John?” Jedikiah’s voice comes through the door. “Are you awake? May I come in?”

He knew this conversation was coming, knows it has been inevitable, but he’s still overcome by an overwhelming desire to hide under his covers, maybe even the bed. “Yeah,” he croaks, “come in.”

The door opens, and Jedikiah steps into the room. He doesn’t seem to be surprised by John being neither dressed nor up, just closes the door behind him and steps up to the bed. “Did you manage to sleep?”

John wants to lie, but he’s never quite learned how to do that with Jedikiah. “Not really, no.”

Jedikiah sighs. “Would you mind getting dressed, regardless? I would like to take you out.”

John’s eyes widen, and he stares up at Jedikiah, has to fight his hands from pulling the comforter up to his chin. “Out?”

“To dinner,” Jedikiah clarifies. “Clearly, we need to talk.”

John doesn’t know what to say to this. It’s been weeks, months even since he last left headquarters, and then it was for a mission, and he’d been supervised the whole time he’d been off premises.

“And I would like to do that on neutral ground, with some food to go with you can actually eat, unlike what they have in the cafeteria – maybe even a glass of wine. For me, of course. I know you don’t care for that, and we can’t have you drink alcohol, anyway.”

John still doesn’t react, to any of this, and Jedikiah takes a step closer to the bed. “John, I know you’d prefer to never ever mention what happened, but since that would be highly unhealthy, I simply refuse to let you do that. We are going to have a talk, and then you’ll feel better, I promise. Now, please, get out of bed and put some clothes on. I will wait outside your room for you.”

With that he turns and leaves, and John gets out of bed.

 

Half an hour later they are sitting across from each other in a cosy little Italian restaurant. There’s a candle on the table, and their waiter lights it for them. John doesn’t know where to look, what to do with his hands.

He stares at the chequered table cloth, clears his throat. “It’s nice. This is a nice place.”

“Thank you, John. It’s one of my favourites. I don’t blame you for what happened.”

John freezes. He’d assumed they were waiting for the food to arrive before going there.

Jedikiah just keeps on talking. “I wouldn’t even regret _that_ it happened, John, if it weren’t for the deplorable fact that you were high on a synthetic drug at the time. Do you understand me?”

John doesn’t, he really doesn’t.

His eyes flit over to where Jedikiah is sitting, regarding him patiently. “But I … what I did -”

Jedikiah actually _shrugs_. “So what? You’re sexually attracted to men. It happens. I’m even a little flattered.”

The waiter is back with their drinks before John can react to this, and Jedikiah sends the man on his way with precise orders for their food. He did neither consult the menu for this, nor did he consult John.

John takes a sip of his water, trying to ignore the heat in his face.

Jedikiah leans forward, reaches across the table and gently takes the glass from him. “What I’m trying to tell you, is that you being … _you_ is not a problem, nor will it ever be.”

John stares down at the table. “I shouldn’t have bothered you with it.”

“Did I seem bothered to you?” Jedikiah sounds surprised. “I thought I handled the situation rather well. I wouldn’t say I enjoyed it – I think that would get me fired – but believe me when I say, John, that I wasn’t _bothered_ by you in the slightest.”

John no longer stares at the table. Instead, he’s now staring at Jedikiah. “I … I kissed you,” he whispers, “I -”

“And it did not bother me, John. How many times do I need to repeat myself before you understand?”

John tries to swallow around the lump in his throat. “It’s not your job to burden yourself with my … issues.”

“It’s not my job to take you out to dinner, either. And yet, here we are.”

There’s a slight pause when Jedikiah takes a sip of his wine, then he focuses his eyes on John. “Now that you have an idea about my … attitude, concerning all this, I would like to ask you a personal question.”

John feels the muscles in his shoulders lock and stiffen, his whole body going rigid. “Yes?”

Jedikiah’s eyes are serious, when he speaks, dark and concerned. “The last days have shown that you will need … assistance, should you wish to continue the program, someone to help you over the bumps in the road, so to speak. And I would like to be that person for you, if … if you are comfortable with that. With me … being around you a lot more than you’re used to.”

“Comfortable,” John echoes, and the sudden warmth in his chest is exhilarating. “Comfortable with you being around, taking care of … of me.”

“You’ve helped me out so much over the years,” he hears Jedikiah say, “did so much without me ever having to ask – I just think it’s time for me to start giving back to you.”

All the weight that has been accumulating on John’s mind over the last days falls away at these words, and he feels himself relax into his chair for the first time since he sat down.

“Yeah,” he says, feeling a bit shy, looking at Jedikiah from under his lashes. “I think I would like that. Very much.”

Jedikiah smiles at him. “Wonderful. Just in time for the food to arrive. And now I will actually be able to enjoy it.”

 

The next few hours are awkward.

The meal Jedikiah ordered for him is great, and once they’re finished eating, Jedikiah takes him to the nearest park, proclaiming he wants to stretch his legs for a bit. John hasn’t felt the sun on his face for ages, and he’s grateful, but he doesn’t know how to properly express his gratitude to Jedikiah.

He doesn’t know how close to the man he’s allowed to walk, if he’s allowed to touch. So he keeps his distance and his mouth shut, clinging to the knowledge that this won’t be his last chance to figure it out.

He’s still uneasy about imposing on Jedikiah, taking advantage of his kindness, but the fact is he doesn’t have anybody else to rely and depend on.

Jedikiah’s all he ever had, and if John is honest with himself, he doesn’t really want it any other way.


End file.
